Thursday, April 19, 2007

Matthew Ryan

Nobody buys Matthew Ryan records. First, he has one of those nondescript names that nobody remembers (it would help not to have two first names. So go with a pseudonym, Matthew; I recommend Ryan Adams). Second, he looks like a plumber, not a rock star. Third, he has one of those raspy, gargle-with-Drano voices that sound offputting and corrosive to people weaned on Clay Aiken and Faith Hill.

But he can sure write some great songs. He's released six albums in the last ten years, and he's getting better and better. His latest, called From a Late Night High Rise, is haunted by the death of a close friend and the news of his brother's sentence to thirty years in prison. It's not exactly upbeat material, but then again, that's not exactly upbeat news, and it's easy to find some 3:00 a.m. moments of pensive instrospection there that will break your heart.

Ever since Monday I've been listening to one of his old songs from his debut album Mayday. It's a scary, spooky song, and these are scary, spooky times. I listen to it and think about the ghosts that haunt the classrooms and hallways in Blacksburg, Virginia.

The dead girl mopes through a dead sceneWith a cross-stitched lip she's picking at the seamShe's got bravado she says she's beenFeatured in a few magazinesNow outside the bar Hank is straddling a police carHis fingers are purple and numb from circling a crow barWell twenty-four years have made it clear that things ain't ever what they appear

He saysI won't be going easilyNo I won't be going lightlyAnd I won't be going peacefullyNo I won't be going innocently

A sweet drink spiked with a speedballA twenty-foot ladder and a ninety-foot wallDark shadows are gathering and swaggering down the hall

And I knowI won't be going easilyNo I won't be going lightlyAnd I won't be going peacefullyNo I won't be going innocently-- Matthew Ryan, "The Dead Girl"

5 comments:

Anonymous
said...

To each his own, but I would never in a million years classify either Clay Aiken's or Faith Hill's voices as raspy. In fact, quite the opposite. Both have very clear, pure voices in my opinion. But then what do I know - both my parents were professional singers and my mother taught voice for many years.

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About Me

Successfully disguised as a suburbanite. One wife, Kate, of indeterminate age, two daughters, Katryn, 24, a first-year grad student at Rutgers University, and Rachel, 21, a senior at Ohio University.
I'm 54, still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I write techie books and develop IT marketing materials for one of my paychecks. I love music, literature, and films. I write a lot, for Paste Magazine, for All Music Guide (allmusic.com), for Christianity Today Magazine, for Image Journal. Sometimes I speak about music on college campuses and at Arts conferences. I love Jesus, sometimes not all that well, but I struggle with the way that is expressed in most American churches. Then again, I struggle with the way I express my faith as well. I'm holding out for grace and forgiveness. Without it, I'm in trouble.
I could not care less about fertilizer or lawn care, but I can discuss the merits of Ortho Weed 'n Feed vs. Scott's Turbuilder in a pinch. This is what comes of living in suburbia.